Faux
by Insomniac Owl
Summary: Masks hide who we truly are. But the problem is, some of us do not want to see the truth, and when we do, we deny it completely. [character death]


**Faux**

_By Insomniac Owl_

_-_

Any sort of mask can be put onto any sort of face, and it is that challenge that makes it so difficult to decipher reality. People can hide their true selves, barricade themselves behind an illusion, mirrors of a false livelihood that deceive the viewer so easily into believing it is the truth.

And that is where his eyes come into play.

Swirling red and black, they see past the illusion. They see through mirrors and into truth. Genjutsu, Ninjutsu, it doesn't matter; it is all laid bare before his eyes, and he is able to counteract the move in a heartbeat. There is also a rumor that the Sharingan can tell when someone is lying, but that of course, is utter falsehood.

It is not the Sharingan that allows him to decipher lies; it is his own inherent skill. He knows humans so well, they are predictable and it is simple to manipulate them however he likes. But it helps him that others believe he can uncover lies at a glance. It strikes them with a sense of fear, and allows him to manipulate them with that much ease.

"Nii-san… I…"

Even now, when faced with his weak, foolish little brother, his eyes swirl red and black and he does not allow them to fade for even a moment.

Sasuke is an exceptional ninja, and he knows perfectly well that if he were to drop his guard for any amount of time he would leap. He keeps his own mask in place, maintains his own illusions, and says nothing.

That is perhaps, his greatest gift. Though he can see so clearly past the lies of others, he denies his own, and he knows it. His greatest accomplishment is the ability to lie to himself, and it is that exploitation that allows the mirrors to stay their place. It is that ability which allows him to construct his own barriers about himself, to hang mirrors and erect illusions he knows will deceive all comers.

They even deceive himself.

Because anyone - anyone at all - is capable of donning a mask. It doesn't matter what they looked like before, what kind of life they lead previously, or what has changed since sliding on that mask, they still wear it.

They wear their masks in oblivion, and he knows this, because he is able to see past them. It is rather ironic then, that he refuses to look past his own.

Sasuke's hands clench themselves tightly, a gesture that he recognizes as a feeling of hopelessness. Those fingers no longer close themselves around the handle of kunai, simply around air in a helpless gesture that signifies word are not forthcoming.

"I…"

He inclines his head, dark hair falling softly into darker eyes, and stares with an unwavering gaze that his little brother does not meet.

He can see the mask slipping, revealing the child he knows his little brother is. So many years ago it was natural, but now that he has donned the mask for years at a time the illusion has _(almost)_ become reality. But he can see the hairline fractures, the way the light is forcing itself in and demanding he wake up to true reality. And he urges with crimson eyes to drop the mask entirely, and expose himself as what he knows he is.

Sasuke has never had the ability to lie to himself. He can lie to others with exceptional skill, but never to himself. He knew that day, nearly four years ago now, that he saw him for a moment with mirrors and illusions all around that did nothing in the face of the Sharingan, that his little brother hadn't changed in the slightest. He continued to cling to the shreds of the life he led before, all the while knowing the façade he was erecting was nothing but falsehood.

Lies are so easily unraveled, and he can tell when Sasuke lets out a choked sob that he has begun to let those mirrors crack and the illusions down. He has begun to unravel his lies.

"I…"

The mask cracks in two, his little brother rushing forward with surprising swiftness, and he responds in a heartbeat. There is a kunai in his hand as he charges at him barehanded, and when Sasuke ducks his head and dips toward the ground he follows, preparing to slide the kunai along the side of his neck. But he never gets there.

Quite suddenly there are warm arms around him, holding him tight, and he is forced to take a step backward to keep his balance. The blood-red hue of his eyes does not waver as he looks down into the soft black of his little brother's hair, though he is all too conscious of the air that pushes itself from between his lips.

It sounds too much like a sigh.

fHis little brother's face is pressed into his chest fiercely, and the arms around him squeeze him a bit tighter, the unarmed hands clasping.

"Nii-san… I… I love you."

He doesn't move for a moment, then - almost of their own accord - his own arms rise and settle themselves gently around his little brother's neck, holding him. He neither sees or hears a trace, not the slightest thread of a lie in those words. So many years of practice and he cannot find it when he knows it is there. But there was nothing at all, and he can feel his little brother's tears soaking through his shirt, his arms clasped around his torso, holding him desperately.

His mind is calm and his eyes still crimson when he raises his right arm from his brother's back. The right hand is the one holding his kunai, and he watches as he curls his arm around Sasuke's neck, an intimate gesture, and gently slides the blade across his little brother's throat.

He knows before it happens that first the arms will slacken, then the body tremble slightly and fall away. As his little brother slides from his arms however, he catches him, keeping Sasuke's cheek to his chest, his feet between his own, and he holds him there, gently, watching as the light in those coal black eyes fades and disappears.

In that last moment he knows Sasuke felt a keen sense of betrayal. Surprise had rested in those eyes, alongside hurt, and though he can see the emotion clear as day, he is careful to hold his mirrors in place. Gently, he lays Sasuke on the ground, closing his eyes and smoothing his hair. In death, it seems as if he never wore a mask at all; as if the mirrors he'd erected were not mirrors, but clear, clear glass.

(Nii-san… I… I love you…)

He rises abruptly and turns away, the edges of his cloak flaring gently, and leaves without a backward glance of his crimson eyes. He keeps his own mask in place, maintains his own illusions, and walks on. Though, somewhere, in the back of his mind, he cannot suppress a vague feeling of resentment toward Sasuke, for convincing him - for even a moment - that he lies he spoke were true.

**finis**


End file.
